What a Funny Dream!
by katierosefun
Summary: In which Arthur Pendragon is sick and Merlin uses magic to lessen the pain. [Small sick!ficlet, one-shot. No slash, just friendship. Set around season one.]


**Hullo, everyone! Katierosefun here! I've recently watched season one of Merlin on Youtube and am now in the middle of season two and needless to say, I have fallen in LOVE with the show! Therefore, this calls for a...*drumroll* SICK!FIC! I don't know why, but I just love writing sick!fics and it's my guilty pleasure. *smiles sheepishly* **

**In this short, (hopefully,) enjoyable sick!fic, Arthur Pendragon will be the one being tortured-*clears throat*-um, I mean, WRITTEN about. XD Maybe I'll take a turn with Merlin and try to torture HIM? Who knows? XD **

**If you enjoyed, please review or fave! Thanks! :)**

* * *

Arthur was feeling unnaturally dizzy when he woke up, and the fact that Merlin was yelling loudly didn't help him, either.

"Rise and shine!" Merlin said cheerfully, pulling back the curtains.

Arthur flinched as sunlight hit his eyes and closed them, trying to make sense of what was going on. He struggled to sit up and immediately regretted it. He opened his eyes to see that his chambers were spinning out of control and he landed back into his bed with a small _thump_.

Merlin turned around to look at Arthur and his smile faded. "You okay?" He asked. "You look…pale."

Arthur looked up from his position on the bed. "I'm fine, Merlin." Arthur replied, sitting up again. He bit back a moan as he stood up. He felt that everything was sliding _backwards_ and the world was pushing him towards the ground.

"Arthur?" Merlin's face was suddenly swaying in front of him—wait, Merlin was swaying? Arthur blinked rapidly and he shook his head.

No, Merlin wasn't swaying—he looked perfectly fine, except for the worried expression on his face.

"Arthur?" Merlin repeated cautiously. "Are you sure you're alright? You look ready to drop."

Arthur casually put a hand on a bed post to keep himself from feeling any dizzier—his legs were beginning to weaken, too. "Stop looking at me like that, Merlin." Arthur managed to say indignantly. "I'm perfectly _fine_, but I won't be if you just _stand_ there."

Merlin blinked and he nodded slowly. "Of course, sire." He mumbled. "I'll be getting you breakfast." He turned and stiffly walked out of the room.

Arthur sighed and took the chance to sink back into bed. His head was pounding in his ears and the noises outside died away. All he could hear was the constant _thud-thud-thud_ of his own pulse beating through his head. He was so _hot_ — even without a proper shirt on nor his blankets, he felt as though he was sitting in front of the fireplace.

The young prince took a deep breath and stood back up as Merlin came rushing in with a tray of food. Arthur took one glance at it and felt queasy in the stomach—just the thought of eating made him dizzy with nausea.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Merlin asked quietly.

"No." Arthur replied easily. "I've decided that I'm not hungry, after all."

Merlin frowned. "Really." He said. Arthur could tell that Merlin didn't believe him—the boy wasn't as stupid as Arthur gave him credit for.

"You should eat still, sire." Merlin added, clasping his hands behind him. "Skipping meals isn't healthy."

"And how would you know?" Arthur grumbled. "Honestly, Merlin, remember who's the master here!"

Merlin frowned and he opened his mouth to say something. Instead, thinking better of it, he shut his mouth and mumbled, "Apologies, sire."

Arthur shook his head and risked taking several paces around his chambers. With each step, the room spun faster. He struggled to keep his eyes open and suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He spun around, and, losing his balance, fell at Merlin's feet. The _thud-thud-thud_ing sound had vanished now, but was replaced with an annoying, thrumming buzz that deafened all other noise.

"Arthur, are you alright?" Merlin's voice was distant in Arthur's ears and his manservant's face was sliding in and out of focus.

He was vaguely aware of Merlin bringing his hand to his brow and he heard him murmuring, "You're burning up."

Arthur felt Merlin struggling to stand him up and once he was on his feet, he slumped over and darkness consumed his vision.

•◊•

Arthur felt a damp, cool cloth on his forehead when he woke up. His eyes wandered from the ceiling to Merlin, who was holding a small glass bottle of medicine in his hand.

"Wha' happened?" Arthur mumbled, unable to sit up or make any other movements of a kind.

"I think you blacked out or something…you had a pretty high fever." Merlin replied quietly and as if to prove it to him, he picked up the cloth and rested a hand on Arthur's forehead. "Hmm…still high." He concluded and re-soaked the cloth in a small bowl of water which was placed on the nightstand.

"How long was I out?" Arthur asked hoarsely.

"Couple of hours." Merlin shrugged. "Gaius gave me this if things go south." He held up the medicine bottle so he could see.

"It won't." Arthur said as Merlin lowered the cloth back over his brow. "I can promise you that."

Merlin grinned and said, "D'you think you can eat anything now?"

Arthur shook his head. "No…food doesn't sound so good right now." He mumbled.

Merlin pursed his lips, obviously disproving the idea, but didn't argue.

_Good,_ Arthur thought tiredly. A fight was the last thing he needed.

•◊•

Arthur re-awoke in a coughing fit. He rolled over on his side—away from Merlin—and coughed into his arm. His entire body was trembling and he was _cold_. Arthur shuddered at the last expel of air was given and for several moments, he lay there in that frozen position, heaving.

He felt Merlin's hand rest on his shoulder and gently turning him on his back.

"Drink," Merlin lifted a cup to Arthur's lips and he drank it down gratefully.

Arthur slipped back into bed and brought the covers tightly over himself, shaking violently. It was _freezing_ in here—how is Merlin acting so calmly about it?

"Your fever's kicking in." Merlin said, as though he read Arthur's thoughts. He felt along Arthur's forehead and frowned.

Arthur shuddered and he closed his eyes, still struggling for breath. His chest shook with every inhale and exhale of air and every single intake of oxygen resulted in a couple of gasps of pain.

He could feel cold sweat dripping down his face, causing him to shiver even more. Merlin's hand was suddenly at his cheek, wiping away the water and he said gently, "Just sleep, alright? It'll get better as you rest."

"Merlin…" Arthur gripped the bed sheets in pain, his knuckles white with restraint and tension. "Merlin, I can't breathe."

"Yes, you can breathe." Merlin replied. "It's just hard right now—take it easy, focus on deeper breaths."

Arthur closed his eyes in concentration, but only a minute later did his eyes reopen in exasperation. "I can't," he choked out.

Merlin reached over and squeezed Arthur's shoulder comfortingly, which, to Arthur's great surprise, eased some of the pain.

"Relax." Merlin whispered.

Arthur took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. The pain in his chest was still throbbing, and his head hurt, and he was still cold, but somehow, he was able to find sleep once again.

•◊•

"Arthur, you're going to have to wake up." Merlin's voice caused Arthur's eyes to open sluggishly.

"There you go," Merlin smiled and Arthur moaned in a low voice. "What's going on?" He mumbled.

"I'm just waking you up for you to take some of your medicine," Merlin replied.

Arthur looked at the glass bottle in Merlin's hand—it didn't look so appealing. For one, it was a sickly, green looking color. When Merlin opened the cork, it smelled _disgusting_, like manure of a sort.

Arthur's nose wrinkled and Merlin rolled his eyes. "Come on, drink it. You want to get better, don't you?" He said with a pointed expression.

"That can't be safe." Arthur mumbled doubtfully. "It looks—"

"But Gaius made it and he wouldn't have given this to me if he didn't want you to recover." Merlin cut him off. He held the bottle closer to Arthur's mouth. "Come on, just a couple sips and it'll be over with."

It didn't even get halfway to Arthur's lips before he struggled and the glass slipped and crashed onto the floor.

"_Arthur_—" Merlin started indignantly but sighed, standing up to clean the mess.

"I'll be back with another vial from Gaius." He said, picking up the glass gingerly. "And this time, try not to knock it out of my hands."

Arthur didn't reply. He couldn't—he was fighting the urge to cough out loud, and his breathing was uneven.

Merlin, who took no notice, sighed and stood back up from the floor. "See you in a few minutes," he said halfheartedly and walked out of the chambers.

The minute Merlin was out of sight; Arthur exploded into a coughing fit and trembled violently. Tears were forming at his eyes from the pain and the struggle, and his face was beginning to heat up. He gasped for air and his hands clenched and unclenched themselves.

By the time he was finished, his throat felt raw and his head felt much lighter than he anticipated. Arthur sat himself up slowly on his bed and pressed a hand to his own forehead, somewhat queasy from the energy put into the sudden spell.

He sucked in another breath, his chest rattling and fell head-first into the blankets.

•◊•

Everything was blurry when Arthur opened his eyes—he could see Merlin, but he wasn't holding a bottle of medicine as he had said before.

Instead, Arthur could faintly hear Merlin speaking in some sort of different language—it was haunting, and Merlin's voice was hoarse and quiet.

Arthur was too sluggish to make anything of it, but he was almost sure that he could feel his fever lessening as Merlin continued his small chant.

Merlin looked down at Arthur, and upon realizing that he was awake, his eyes widened and he quickly stopped speaking.

Arthur frowned, confused why Merlin would look at him like that and a small thought formed in the back of his head before he fell back asleep—

_Was that magic?_

•◊•

"You're awake!" Merlin said cheerfully as Arthur yawned the next morning. "And your fever went down, too!"

Arthur looked up slowly, blinking the light from his eyes. "Yeah, guess it is…" He murmured sleepily and brought his hand up to rub his eyes.

Halfway, his hand froze and he looked at Merlin in the eye. "You…last night, I thought I saw you do something…" He said slowly.

Merlin's smile was still frozen on his face. "What would that be?"

"I thought you were…practicing magic—no, that can't be." Arthur frowned. Merlin of all people couldn't have magical powers—he may have his moments, but _really?_

Arthur looked up at Merlin again, who still had the same annoyingly cheerful grin on his face.

He shook his head—nope, there wasn't any doubt about it—Merlin _definitely _wasn't magical.

"It must have been a dream…" Arthur murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Wow—what a funny dream!" Merlin said. "Really, though, you know magic's banned from Camelot."

"Yeah, I know…" Arthur nodded. "Weird, don't you think? I mean, there is _no way_ you're a sorcerer."

Merlin tossed his head back, laughing. "No, not at all." He chuckled. "I'm not magical whatsoever."


End file.
